


Carefully Chosen Words

by phansparent (lestershoweller)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Band, M/M, One Night Stand, Punk, Smut, anxiety mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 08:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5085712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lestershoweller/pseuds/phansparent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan is in a punk band, and he catches sight of Phil in the crowd during one of his gigs. Dan’s always good at choosing his words carefully, but Phil is about to change that (with really good sex).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carefully Chosen Words

Dan makes it a point to stare at the back of the venue whenever he plays. It’s his “imagine the audience in their underpants” kind of trick. If he looks anywhere else, at a member of the crowd, he starts to sweat, he forgets the lyric he’s singing, and feels as if he might faint. Dan isn’t a particularly panicky person, and he’s been performing since the Year 8 talent show, but the idea of making eye contact with someone watching nauseates him. A whole crowd of people staring at him is not the least bit frightening; but the idea of one person staring at him overwhelms him. He cannot be reminded that each person out there is an individual person with judgments about the sound of his voice, his movements on stage, the chords he plays. If he ever does accidentally make eye contact with someone, and to be honest that person probably has no idea that they’re even making supposed eye contact because there’s too many people in the crowd, but if Dan ever feels as though he may be making eye contact with someone in the crowd, it’s usually his cue to take a short set break and gulp a bottle of water to ward off the anxiety.

Tonight, it’s different.

There’s a flash of light out in the crowd, but it’s facing towards the back of the venue, not towards the band, and it seems that someone faced their camera the wrong way in the darkness and taken a picture of themselves. The flash draws Dan’s eyes, though his brain is screaming at him to keep his eyes planted at the back of the room. His reflexes are too fast, and he sees the face of the man lit up in surprise at the sudden flashes of light, having forgotten he’d set the camera to take 10 shots. Dan finds himself thinking,  _what kind of dork takes accidental selfies of himself instead of the band_ , and then he’s wondering  _why am I making assumptions about some random person in the audience._ He sees the man’s face, and his fringe is bright blue, and Dan can’t see the color of his eyes, but he knows they’re blue too. His mouth is cemented in the shape of an “O,” and he’s fumbling with his camera, trying to make the flashing stop because everyone is looking at him, even the lead singer of the band. Usually a moment like this would be horrifying to Dan, but this time, even though he does forget the lyrics, and he does stop singing, it’s only because there’s a giggle escaping his lips.

And Dan doesn’t know why, but he says, “Hey camera man. Meet me at the bar after this set.”

Dan feels heat in his cheeks, but he doesn’t feel embarrassed just eager to meet the blue-haired man. It’s dark in the audience again, and Dan fixes his gaze at the back wall again, but he imagines that the man’s cheeks are flushed too.

* * *

There’s no reason for the man to show up after the show. Dan isn’t important. He’s been playing in bands for ten years, but he’s never played outside of a dive bar. His vocal range isn’t that great, and his lyrics are a bit cliché, but it’s punk, so as long as there’s some swearing and anarchism it works. The guitars and the drums drown out a lot of what he sings anyway.

Dan sits at the bar, licking across his bottom lip, the metallic taste of his snakebites bringing him a strange sense of comfort as he waits. The bartender places a jack and coke in front of him, knowing his drink order by heart.  
“I bet your real drink order is a fuzzy navel or something,” Dan hears from behind him. He smiles as he swivels around on the barstool to face the stranger from the audience. Up close he sees a black dragon tattoo covering the right side of the man’s neck, and now Dan knows his face is red as his fringe because this man is **too**  hot to be  _actually_ standing in front of him.

“I’m more of a white wine kind of guy, but I like almost anything better than this,” Dan answers, gesturing toward the brown drink in front of him.

The man laughs, joining Dan at the bar. “Don’t want to destroy your image?”

“Evidently you’ve already seen right through me,” Dan jokes.

Phil orders a beer, claiming that it isn’t to protect his image, but Dan notices that he winces a bit when the fizzy liquid hits his tongue.

“Well, maybe I’m trying to protect your image. You can’t be seen with someone with a pink drink right?” The man jokes.

“Well thanks for suffering for me…” Dan pauses, waiting for the stranger to fill the gap in speech.

“Phil,” he responds, reaching out his hand to meet Dan’s. Their hands touch, and Dan heart thuds so loudly he swears Phil must hear it.

“I’m Dan.”

Phil smirks. “I know. I’ve seen you play a few times.”

Dan feels his face growing red, and he lays a hand over his nose to hide it. Phil giggles, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth. Dan wants that tongue to take a peek inside his mouth. The thought only makes Dan’s face grow hotter.

Phil combs his finger through Dan’s fringe. “Aww. Your cheeks are the same color as your hair.”

Dan swats away Phil’s hand, but he’s smiling so big his cheeks are starting to hurt.

“For someone who writes songs and plays gigs weekly, you don’t say much,” Phil observes.

Dan gathers his thoughts. “I prefer writing because I can plan what I’m going to say. This world we live in moves so quickly. No one gives you a chance to choose your words carefully. I think half of heartbreaks could be prevented through careful consideration of words.”

“ _Explanations spewed to doors slammed in my face; you shout that the words cannot be erased,_ ” Phil quotes one of Dan’s songs.

Dan has never heard someone else speak his words back to him. The soft, soothing tone of Phil’s voice brings sadness to the words that Dan hides behind anger when he sings, and it’s strange that this man who he’s just met seems to understand him better than anyone he knows. A shiver flows through his body. His insides are screaming because he cannot believe that someone would  _memorize_  words he wrote and realize they are more than just black lines on paper turned into musical notes.

“Were those right?” Phil asks, spinning onyx ring on his index finger. He looks down at his knees, “They were probably wrong…”

Dan grabs Phil’s hand. It’s like silk, and Dan wants to wrap himself up in Phil. “You’re just right,” Dan assures, though his vague choice of words intrigues him. He considers that he is speaking of more than just Phil’s adept memory for song lyrics. Dan shivers again, and Phil can feel the hairs rise on Dan’s arm.

Phil smiles at Dan, focusing his caribbean eyes into Dan’s, recognizing his power now. With confidence, he proposes, “If you’re bad with words, we don’t have to talk.”

“There’s this room they let us use to store our equipment,” Dan responds, finding the words have been on the tip of his tongue since he’d first laid eyes on Phil.

Dan and Phil make their way across the bar, passing Dan’s bandmates on their way. Dan glares at them, until Jake, the drummer, gives him a wink, so Dan’s certain they will not be interrupted. Behind clothed doors, Dan wastes no time. He unbuttons Phil’s shirt, desperate to see the ink he anticipates hidden beneath.

There’s a lion over Phil’s heart, and a Chinese character on Phil’s hipbone. Dan bends down, desperate to place his lips against that hipbone. “What’s it mean?” Dan asks, as he kisses his way back up Phil’s body.

“Umm…” Dan feels Phil’s body tense. “Well, it was supposed to mean Honesty, but it was my first tattoo, and I didn’t know what it was doing, so it actually means Rooster, apparently.”

Dan has to sit down because he’s laughing. “So, essentially, you’ve got cock tattooed on you.”

“Shut up,” Phil grunts. He kneels down to the floor and hovers over Dan, locking their lips together to force Dan to be quiet. Phil’s lips are velvety like his skin, a stark contrast to Dan’s lips, which always seem to be dry and cracking.

The kiss is sweet but hungry, and it isn’t long before they’re breaking it for Phil to pull Dan’s shirt over his head. Phil admires Dan’s chest; he has a trail of the music notes extending down his ribcage, and patches of song lyrics, below his bellybutton, along his clavicle, over his heart. Phil makes a promise to himself to read each word when they’re done, knowing they must be meaningful to Dan. Dan’s mind is so intriguing to him.

For now, he presses back on Dan’s chest, so that Dan lays flat on his back. Phil starts to climb on top of Dan, but Dan stops him. The concrete floor is terribly uncomfortable, making tiny indentations into the delicate skin of Dan’s back.

“If I’m going to get us a room, we can at least use the couch,” Dan remarks.

Phil rolls his eyes, but he pulls himself off of Dan. Phil can’t keep himself off of Dan, his lips pressing against Dan’s neck as they stumble over to couch. Dan raises his shoulders, overwhelmed by the sensation of lips to his neck. He lets out of a moan as he collapses on top of the couch. Phil follows, straddling Dan and continuing to kiss his neck. He reaches his hand down and rests it on Dan’s crotch, pleased to feel Dan already slightly hard inside his jeans. Phil massages Dan’s cock, noticing it grow in size as he rubs.

Phil feels his cock twitching, blood rushing to it, and he moves his hand to give himself room to grind himself into Dan. They both gasp as their cocks graze against each other.

“Fuck this…” Dan groans, reaching between their bodies to undo the button on Phil’s jeans. Phil kneels so he can pull them off, while Dan works at his own. It’s been too long since Dan has had sex, and he’s afraid extended foreplay will be too much for him, especially with someone as gorgeous as Phil.

Dan gazes at Phil’s naked body, pleasantly surprised at how large and thick Phil’s cock is. He grins, and Phil smirks when he notices Dan looking. Dan grabs Phil’s shoulder and pulls him on top of him. He kisses Phil again, pulling Phil’s bottom lip into his mouth and nibbling at it. Phil licks along Dan’s top lip, and Dan releases Phil’s lips to allow Phil’s tongue inside his mouth. Phil grinds his cock into Dan’s hip. Dan loves the feeling of Phil’s hardness on his skin.

Phil fits himself back into the crease of Dan’s neck and bites at the skin below Dan’s ear. “Do you have…stuff?” Phil whispers.

“Black bag behind you on the floor…inside pocket,” Dan mutters.

Phil reaches into the bag, acquiring a small bottle of lube and a condom. “You came prepared,” he says as he opens the bottle. He pours some onto his fingers and rubs it over Dan’s hole.

“Shit,” Dan groans, the word escaping from his mouth before he’s had a chance to think. Dan finds it a bit ironic that he spends all of his time carefully choosing his words, and this stranger is taking away that ability.

Phil circles Dan’s hole a few times, before slipping one finger inside. He massages inside of Dan, stretching him. Dan squirms, and he has to grip he fabric of the couch to calm himself. Phil takes this response as a clue to add another finger. He scissors the two fingers and pushes them deeper until they’re brushing against Dan’s prostate.

“God…Phil,” Dan whines. The sound of Phil’s name from Dan’s lips makes Phil’s body tingle. He grasps Dan’s hand and rests it on his cock. Dan strokes it, rubbing his thumb over the rosy tip, which is leaking with precum.

“I want to be inside you so badly,” Phil gasps. He adds a third finger inside Dan, pumping them in and out. Dan mirrors the motion on Phil’s cock.

“I’m ready,” Dan says, unable to handle the teasing thrusts of Phil’s fingers any more.

Phil rips the condom wrapper open with his teeth. He unrolls the condom onto his cock, moaning slightly because his cock is so sensitive right now, and he’s almost afraid that he’ll come upon entry into Dan’s tight ass. He pours lube into his hand, rubbing it over the condom for good measure.

Dan looks up at Phil, biting his bottom lip. Phil lines himself up with Dan’s hole, and Dan places his hands on Phil’s hips to pull him into him. Just the tip of Phil’s cock on Dan’s ass is making Dan’s stomach flutter. His stomach is wet with precum.

With excruciating slowness, Phil thrusts his cock into Dan, which Dan believes is some strange form of torture but actually just Phil ensuring he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of the hottest man he’s ever been with. Once Phil fills Dan completely, Dan grips Phil’s butt and holds him there for a moment, reveling in the completeness he feels.

Dan lets go and allows Phil to push in and out of him, Phil’s stomach grazing against Dan’s cock as he moves, providing just enough friction to stop Dan from going insane. Phil bends his head down to suck on Dan’s lips, as Dan reaches up to run his fingers through Phil’s hair. Phil loves the feeling of Dan’s lip rings on his tongue, cold and metallic and sexy as fuck. He wonders what they’d feel like running up the length of his cock…

The thought has Phil desperate to pump harder into Dan. His breathing is labored, and he’s so deep inside Dan. Dan cries out, and Phil knows he’s found the right angle to hit Dan’s prostate. He keeps thrusting into Dan at the same angle, and Dan is shaking, and pulling on Phil’s hair, and swearing, “Fuck…Jesus Christ.” Phil reaches a hand between the two of them and strokes Dan a few times until he’s coming, spurting out onto both his and Phil’s chests. Dan’s eyes are closed, and his lips are barely parted as he struggles to bring in air. The sight of Dan is tantalizing, and Phil feels the heat building in his stomach as well. After a few more thrusts, Phil releases into Dan.

He reluctantly pulls out of Dan, removing the condom, tying it and resting it on the floor so he can snuggle up to Dan’s body. He presses his lips to Dan’s neck, tasting a layer of salty sweat.

“I think I’ll write a song about that,” Dan says.

“I can’t wait to hear it.”


End file.
